Those Seen Dancing
by secretsofgray
Summary: Some people hear the music but never dance to it. Others are out there, lost and searching for their song. But for some, the music is always playing and they are always dancing, even when thought insane. Narusaku. Gaaraxoc
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, yea, I know, I have like three other stories that I'm actually updating right now and yadda yadday yadda. BUT. Inspiration doesn't call often, and when it does, you **_**freakin' listen.**_

**Ahem. Anyways. This shall focus on the intricate bonds of people – building, breaking, maintaining, et cetera, et cetera. Based on the lovely little quote. Let's find out what direction it shall take, shall we? **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto. Or the quote. That's by Friedrich Nietzsche. **

_****__And those who were seen dancing_ were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music. -Friedrich Nietzche. 

_**xxxxxxx**_

She was always more introverted, quieter, maybe a little more self-conscious. He was always the instigator of their misadventures, louder (if not obnoxious) and uncaring to what others thought. They complimented each other perfectly, as best friends should, and balanced each other out to equilibrium. Naruto by himself was overwhelming, and Sakura by herself wasn't very good company. Sure, on the flipside, Naruto had Gaara and Sakura had Ino, but first and foremost they had each other – next door neighbors, siblings, best friends.

When they were kids, Naruto would come up with a scheme guaranteed to get them in trouble before dinnertime. Sakura would be the willing accomplice and perhaps the voice of reason, though more often than not Naruto had convinced her to throw caution to the wind. Sometimes their parents found out and they'd be punished, but mostly they'd remain ignorant of what utter mischief their children were getting up to.

It was the thrill of the thing that made it so addicting to Sakura, the whole fear of being caught that made her agree to Naruto's wild schemes.

And then the first day of middle school came around. It was the first time they'd be separated for the entire day – their elementary school had been small, with one classroom per grade. But middle school – eight teachers, eight classes, and only one with Sakura?

Naruto didn't think things could get worse.

Unfortunately, he thought wrong.

Naruto wasn't very book smart. He was excellent in math, but he just scraped average marks in everything else. His personality more than made up for this – at least, that's what other people said.

All those other people obviously hadn't been to a modern-day American middle-school.

His short stature made him a wimp. His prowess in math made him a know-it-all. His unwillingness to take people's crap made him a douchebag, and the scars on his cheeks made him a freak.

He put on a smile for Sakura at lunch – she disentangled herself from a group of girls to come sit with him. "Hey!" she greeted cheerily. "Are you okay?"

Good as Naruto was at putting on a smile, Sakura could still see through his armor. "I'm fine!" he said, grinning. "Just starving."

And Sakura accepted that, because Naruto had his appetite, and he'd talk to her about it when he needed to. He always did; Naruto wasn't good at keeping things in. "Anyway," she said, "How's it been?"

Naruto shrugged. "Alright, I guess. How about you?"

Sakura grinned. "It's been great! There's this girl, Ino – I'll have to introduce you to her. Actually, she reminds me of you a little. But – hey, did you have Anko for English?"

And so the conversation turned, and Naruto was able to enjoy his forty five minutes of lunch.

By the end of the school day, he was a complete and utter wreck.

He had gotten into a fight with some black-haired boy, and it had _not _ended well. Both of them were hurting, but the other boy had had his friends behind him – Naruto was alone, bloody, and frustrated.

He was used to being alone, mostly, though – he lived with his godfather who wasn't very social, and he had Sakura – that was all he needed. But still – he was hurting. He punched a wall in his eleven-year-old rage and sunk against it, fighting back tears.

He was like that when Sakura found him. "Naruto?" she said, kneeling next to him. "What's wrong?"

"N-nothing," he said, fighting to speak past the lump in his throat. "I'm fine." He had to be strong for Sakura – _he _was supposed to protect _her_ from bullies, like in kindergarten. Not the other way around.

She poked him on the forehead, hard. "No, you're not," she said, softly. "Just tell me what's wrong, okay?"

And Naruto found himself telling her everything.

When he was done, Sakura was frowning in concentration. _Oh no, _he thought, _she's not gonna be my friend anymore cause I'm not cool and – _

"It doesn't matter what they say," she said quietly. "They don't know you. Right? And today, my homeroom teacher gave us a quote – _Those who were seen dancing were thought insane by those who couldn't hear the music – _or something like that." She paused, as if considering her words. "And I guess that maybe they don't hear the music. But you _do, _and that's what makes you better. You always hear the music and dance to it…that's what makes you _you._ Don't let that change."

Sometimes, people have a way of saying exactly the words you need to hear – especially those who are closest to you. This, Naruto would think in retrospect, was one of those times. Surprisingly deep words from an eleven-year-old, but then again, Sakura was always a little more introspective.

And five years later, when asked, Naruto would say that this moment was the moment he fell in love with Sakura Haruno.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

That was the quote Naruto lived by – it was what fueled his charm, you could say. Eventually he did make friends in middle school – a certain moody red-haired boy, a lazyass genius, some kid who was rarely without his dog, and even a friendly rivalry with the boy he had gotten into a fight with. Life was, in a word, going good – he and Sakura were as close as ever and she was still in the dark about his affection for her, Sakura wasn't hardcore interested in any guys at the moment, Gaara wasn't about to kill someone, Sasuke hadn't gone _completely _over the edge it was summer – yea, life was going _great._

It was one such lazy summer afternoon. Sakura and Naruto were lounging in his room, too lethargic to do anything. Sakura had a pool, and so did Kiba, but it was too hot outside to do even swim.

"I really hate it when Gaara goes on vacation," Naruto mumbled for the umpteenth time. Sakura had to agree. When days got this hot due to heat waves and the like, Gaara's basement was the place to be. It was cold and wonderful and had every gaming system known to mankind. From Halo to COD to Smash Bros. to Rock Band; no one was ever bored.

But, he and his siblings had to go visit their father out west – some sort of warped custody agreement, from what everyone understood. It was hard on Gaara, and bothersome for the rest of them, especially Naruto. He worried about Gaara – try as he might to come off as indifferent and cold, he _felt _– perhaps a little too much.

_He'll be fine,_ Naruto reminded himself, and brushed those thoughts away. In the meantime, he had a mission: Operation Think of Something to Do Today.

"Ever feel like Phineas and Ferb?" Naruto asked with a grin. He was leaning against his bed, hands laced behind his head. Sakura sat across from him, legs crossed, leaning against a dresser.

She grinned. "I guess. Except our misadventures continue into the school year."

"Well of course," Naruto said, stretching his legs out. "But…hm…what day is today?"

"Friday." The reply was instant, and Sakura tilted her head. Naruto always came up with his most insane schemes on Fridays. No one knew why, but Shikamaru said it was something to do with the weekend time VS pent-up cabin fever.

"Hmm…well – nah, can't do that without Gaara – what say you to…road trip?" Naruto sat up now, waiting Sakura's answer.

"Where?" she asked offhandedly, "I mean – "

"Doesn't matter," Naruto replied instantly, ideas already forming. "Wherever the car decides to take us."

That was a good enough answer for Sakura.

Thirty minutes later both teens had cleared it with their parental figures, grabbed their wallets and assorted food (Naruto got unexplainably hungry when he drove – it was one of those phenomena that appear every so often) and were off in Naruto's Mustang. It was his pride and joy, and he treated it like it was his child.

Sakura named it Bucephalus.

So caution to the wind, music blaring, they were off.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

Ten P.M found them sitting on the hood of Naruto's car staring up at the stars. Gaara could point out all the constellations and had once tried to show them, but Sakura preferred to remain ignorant on this one topic, if only so she could appreciate the sight with a simple mind.

And it was amazing. Down in the more populated areas, you never saw this much of the stars – thrown all over the place, scattered like diamonds. She sighed contentedly. "Alright – today was a success," she said, grinning at Naruto, "Though I'm not sure how I feel about the lack of running from the authorities."

Naruto grinned. "I'll make up for it when Gaara gets back, I promise," he said, leaning back. "Just you wait." His eyes flickered over to her. She was staring at the stars with such…rapture? Appreciation? He could only wish to be on the receiving end of such a look.

He shook his head to rid himself of the thoughts. He wasn't a realist or a pessimist by nature, but where Sakura was concerned he needed to be. Much as he'd love to try and start something with her…much as he _loved _that idea…he didn't want to risk anything and wind up destroying the beautiful thing between them.

You had something like they had – the connection – _once _in a lifetime, if that. It wasn't something you just threw away, or even _risked. _

Sakura was his soul mate, there was no doubt about that in Naruto's mind.

Even if Sakura didn't know it yet.

XxxxxxxxxX

Gaara no Sabaku shut his eyes and turned the volume of his iPod up a few notches, drowning out the sounds of his siblings.

_Annoying…_

He didn't understand _why _they had to travel nearly halfway across the goddamn country to visit the piece of filth that happened to procreate with their mother. Temari was nearly _twenty _and Kankuro was _eighteen._ Legally adults. He was _right _behind them; legally, he was the only one still underage. There should be no way that their father could force them _all_ into a custody agreement.

_Technically it's till _your _eighteen,_ Kankuro had said. Gaara didn't miss the implication of his words: Waiting around for Little Gaara, _again._ Watching him fuck up our lives, _again._

Temari, to her credit, didn't blame him.

_Aloud._

But it didn't matter – _he _blamed himself and took care of _that _problem.

Some people complained about their militant fathers. Gaara would tell them to shut up and actually try living with a father who _was _in the military. It was a wonder that none of them had been committed yet.

_No one dares argue with the Colonel. _

Sneering at the landscape as it flew by, Gaara transferred his headphones from his ears to his neck. "When are we gonna be there?" he asked from the backseat.

He smirked to himself as he saw Kankuro visibly twitch. It wasn't that Gaara really wanted to know, or cared either way; actually, he was rather indifferent on the subject. But it was hot outside and the car's air conditioner was busted. Such created the perfect conditions for a favorite game of Gaara's, one called Push Kankuro's Buttons. Temari knew what he was getting at, but didn't say anything. Gaara knew why. For once, she wasn't the one being annoyed, and in all honesty?

It was just so damn amusing.

Although Temari was the one driving, Kankuro was the one who responded. "When we get there!" he snarled at Gaara.

"Knock it off, Gaara," Temari said. No matter how amusing it was, she had to bring them to their father's house in one piece. If Kankuro tried to throttle Gaara and by some chance didn't get killed in turn, there'd be a problem.

"When's that?" Gaara prodded, ignoring his sister,

"Gaara," Temari said sharply, glancing in the rearview mirror. Gaara's facial expression didn't change when he snapped, "What?"

Temari didn't even bother justifying that with a response. She said something to Kankuro, quietly, but Gaara wasn't listening anyway. His foul mood wasn't abated in the slightest. Scowling at his iPod, he turned on the fastest, loudest song, jacked up a volume, and shut his eyes for his own benefit.

The world just needed to fuck itself.

The next time he opened his eyes they were pulling up to a house that really was more of a mansion. Well, a half-mansion. It was big, required both a maid and a butler, had four levels to it, and was outfitted with a yard that probably cost just as much to maintain as the mortgage.

That is, if the Colonel even _had _a mortgage.

As they pulled up Gaara took off his headphones and stretched his arms, cursing the heat. He'd get sunburn, for sure.

The butler – a guy named Baki – greeted them as they got out of the car and took Temari's bag. Gaara didn't understand _why_ Temari needed three duffle bags for a two week trip; there was this _wonderful _invention called the washing machine, he had explained.

Temari hadn't appreciated it and muttered something about boys being stupid.

He and Kankuro shouldered their single, considerably smaller bags and followed Baki up the stone pathway (God forbid one _touched _Master Sabaku's manicured lawn) and the manservant explained, "Master Sabaku is out -"

Gaara heard no more than that. Leave it to his father to be out the day his children arrive.

Gaara _hated _everything about Suna. It was an uppity, rich-kid town smack-dab in the middle of a dessert and all suburbs. He scowled as he heard, in the distance (there was at least three freakin' acres between houses here, let alone the land _around _it) two people screaming at each other. He was about to turn on his iPod again when Temari got his attention.

"Gaara," Temari called his name in a way that made Gaara think she had been trying to get his attention for a while. "Did you get that? He's," there was no question as to what 'he' meant, "Going to be here at eight for dinner. We're going someplace formal, so wear a shirt with sleeves, okay?"

She began walking up the stairs after that, and Gaara glared at her back as he followed her. Sleeves his ass. She just didn't want their father to find out how much of a freak he was.

Not that it'd matter. Gaara had _always _been the favorite punching bag.

Gaara and his siblings climbed their way up the French staircase to their bedrooms. They were all lavish, like every other room in the damned house. When he was younger, Gaara used to think it was pretty neat, sleeping in a bed that could easily fit ten people.

Now the primness of it all made him hate it even more.

He didn't even bother to unpack. After throwing his bag onto the bed, Gaara glanced around the room. As usual, the caged-animal feeling began creeping up on him – he couldn't _stand _it, began to grow antsy, felt cornered.

He was outta there before the feeling could even fully settle in.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Temari hefted down on the bed belly-up, eagle-spread on a mattress that probably cost half of what she paid for her car. She shut her eyes against the onslaught of weariness that seemed to assault her whenever she sat down.

She _hated _this. Coming here was probably the worst thing for her – for _all _of them. But they were resilient, had always been. She could remember being fifteen and worrying if they were going to eat that night, worrying if her little brother was going to commit suicide, worrying if their father was going to come home drunk again or not. She could remember the first time she was actually hit – probably age twelve – and the first time she hit back – probably age fourteen.

She remembered holding her brothers in her arms that one night, when their father had come home with three other men and sent them upstairs with the instruction to 'don't come out whatever the fuck you hear.'

She was sixteen when she held Gaara as blood flowed from too many places on him and she didn't know if it was their father or self-inflicted. She remembered at how she couldn't tell if Gaara was crying or not but she remembered how she didn't – _wouldn't allow herself to – _cry. Because crying would mean that she had broken and if she was broken then he would win.

_And she'd be damned before she'd let _him _win._

Xxxxxxx

**As always, let me know your thoughts.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two. **

**Thanks to anyone who reviewed!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. **

**Off and Onward.**

Gaara was thirteen when the custody agreement had been put into action.

It was bullshit, but the siblings were powerless. None of them were adults and Yashamaru didn't have the balls to fight their father to the full extent.

Gaara sneered at the manor. It sat on a little bit of a hill – at the top he could see his father waiting for them, arms crossed and face emotionless.

"This is bullshit," Temari said for the fifteenth time. "I swear to fucking God. If he touches either of you – "

"He won't," Kankuro cut her off with a confidence Gaara hated him for. "Not after _last time._" He shot a pointed glance at Gaara. Gaara glared back until Kankuro averted his eyes.

"Still," Temari said, lowering her voice as they trudged up the hill. "I don't care. He's a bastard, and there should be no _legal way _for him to be able to have custody!"

Gaara wanted to roll his eyes. Their father was in the goddamn _military._ If he wasn't kicked out for what he did, then he'd get away with anything.

_Too many connections,_ someone had said. _The best we can do is require a supervised visit …does Mr. Sabaku have any servants? Butlers? _

Of course he did. Turns out that they – after being hand-picked and interrogated by some judge or something – were the designated supervisors.

"Yea, well Yashamaru's a dick," Kankuro said, and that was all he could get in before they were standing before their father.

Gaara glared up at his father, but it was all he could do to mask his fear. Much as he hated it, he _feared _his father, feared the man who made his life a living hell. He masked it pretty damn well, though, behind spiky hair and the black clothes and the chains and the boots. Gaara could hit two birds with one stone that way – no one approached him and no one could tell what he was thinking, that he was _scared._

The Colonel surveyed his children, his eyes finally resting on Gaara. Gaara gave him the same cold stare that everyone else got and didn't avert his eyes.

Their father took a step back. "Baki will show you to your rooms."

In his place appeared a man with a hard face and tattoos on his jawline. He said something, but Gaara had already put on his headphones and jacked the volume up to deafening. He didn't give a shit, just followed his siblings up the obnoxiously large French staircase and entered the doorway Baki gestured him to.

The first thing he did was lock the door.

The second thing he did was drop his bag onto the bed – which was ridiculously large, and he didn't sleep, anyway. Inside the room was a bookshelf with books that he didn't recognize, a dresser, a nightstand, a T.V. and what looked like a gaming system.

Gaara sneered at it and lay on the bed, loosing himself in the angry music to drown his anxiety.

After two solid days of hibernating in his room, Gaara was beginning to grow restless.

It was agitating; except for midnight excursions to the kitchen, Gaara hadn't left the room. And being surrounded by the same four walls was _absolutely_ _maddening._ Temari had knocked on his door and tried to get him out, but she was met with stony silence and a growled threat. But by the time eight o clock, day three in Hell rolled around, Gaara almost wished that she would nag him relentlessly, if only to give him an excuse to get out.

_But then again, _he's_ out there._

Unbidden, his gaze traveled to the window.

Five seconds later he was jumping out of it.

He landed in a crouch, stood up, and began walking in the direction of town in one fluid motion. Years of living with his father had made him agile, and when one associateswith Naruto Uzumaki one will grow physically fit. It was simply a law of nature.

Gaara tugged his headphones around his neck and glanced around. His father lived on the fringes of the gated neighborhood; should he just walk around the development or would it be better to get out?

There was no question; Gaara bolted for the exit, not knowing or caring where it took him.

Xxxxxxxxx

Some fifteen minutes later, Gaara was roaming around the streets of a vintage sect of the town that only emphasized the fact that he was located in Dessert, The Middle of Hell. It was freakin' _hot _outside, and there were _no trees anywhere. _It was also noon, which meant no shadows; no shadows meant to way to cool off, and no way to cool off meant a hot, crabby (-er than normal) Gaara.

Scowling, he shoved open the door to the nearest shop – a quaint little place called Elysium.

The irony wasn't lost on him.

Upon entering, he glanced around. The room was dominated by bookshelves taller than he was with hardly enough space between them. To his right he saw what looked like paintings, and to his left there were CDs.

From what he could tell, there was no one else in the store.

None of that really mattered to him; it was cool in here, quiet, and away from the stifling closeness of the manor. Gaara sat himself down in the narrow space between two of the CD shelves, put on his headphones and selected his favorite album. The coolness of the room was nice, the harsh vocals somehow soothing. Soon enough, he shut his eyes.

He opened them some time later, though he didn't know when he fell asleep. All he knew was that the last song on the album was drawing to a close.

He frowned. He wasn't one to sleep, much less nap in the middle of a goddamn bookstore, even if it only was for thirty minutes or so. He didn't feel refreshed, or even like he had slept.

He stood and placed his headphones around his neck and checked the time. Nearly two o clock in the afternoon, and he hadn't eaten lunch, the pangs in his stomach reminded him.

Gaara felt someone's eyes on him. He whirled and presented them with a withering glare, but the man only chuckled. "I was wondering when you were going to wake up. Looks my niece owes me."

Gaara arched an invisible eyebrow and crossed his arms.

"Anyway," the man continued. "I'm Ulrich." Ulrich was a man, probably in his sixties, with graying hair and pale blue eyes.

"Gaara," Gaara said, not offering a last name.

Ulrich nodded. "I haven't seen you around here. You just move in?"

"I'm visiting." Gaara said shortly.

The man seemed to take the hint. He gestured around and said, "Music's here. Books over there, and art stuff if over to your right. I'd recommend _The Masquerade_ if you're looking for something good." With that he took his leave, saying a, "I'll be at the desk if you need me."

Gaara _hn_ed in response and glanced around. Truth be told, he wasn't sure what to do with himself. He browsed through the music briefly, but the type he like was few and far between in the selection. He half contemplated going back outside, but it was so _hot _out and there was no way in _hell _he was going back _there._

So he stormed down an isle and stared at the book titles. After thirty seconds they began to blur together, so he grabbed on out, glanced at it, and almost immediately put it back. Uh-uh, _no, _he was _not _reading a book entitled _101 Ways to Make Him Want You._

With a shudder, he turned around and faced the other shelf. He didn't know what to look for, had never really been an avid reader, but by the looks of the titles, he was beginning to understand why.

A couch from the end of the isle drew his attention to Ulrich. "What?" he almost snarled.

Ulrich looked amused. "You may not find anything you like," Gaara narrowed his eyes at the man as he not-so-subtlely disguised a laugh with a cough, "Because this is the contemporary _women's _section. Young adult is over there." He gestured to the back, and Gaara nodded, heading that way.

And even though Gaara left the bookstore that day without a book and in a rather foul mood, it was enough to spark his interest.

He returned the next day, and the day after that. The interest of Gaara no Sabaku had been sparked, and, like his father, when he became interested in something, the interest didn't go away.

He didn't know why he liked the bookstore so much; maybe it was the elusiveness? The quiet? Perhaps even the company of Ulrich? The man _was_ a good conversationalist, Gaara had found out. A little like Naruto in that respect. Everyone knew him, and he knew everyone.

One day Gaara entered, same time as always, and found Ulrich in an intense discussion with a young, dark-haired girl.

She was sitting on the checkout desk in a pair of what looked like boy's shorts and a gray t shirt, kicking her sneakers against the desk. "It _sucks ass,_" she said in frustration, glaring at the floor.

"You're lucky your mother didn't hear that," Ulrich reprimanded lightly. He was bandaging the girl's arm, from what Gaara could see.

The girl snorted and muttered something he didn't catch. Gaara was debating on whether or not to exit the store and come back later or quietly make his way toward the back, when Ulrich turned and caught sight of him. "Ah, Gaara," he greeted.

Gaara nodded in greeting. The girl turned and said to him, "You cost me ten dollars, you know."

Gaara blinked. He didn't know whether to be offended or not. _I'll bet she's annoying…_"What?"

She nodded. "Yea. You weren't asleep till closing. Or dead. Ulrich bet that you'd wake up before closing and were _alive, _and you were. So I'm out ten bucks."

Gaara narrowed his eyes. "Sorry," he muttered, sarcasm dripping from each syllable.

Ulrich cut the gauze and said, "At least introduce yourself, Skye."

"_You _just did," she said, hopping down from the desk. She half-walked, half-skipped over to Gaara, so close that she was almost invading his personal space. "Who're you?"

"Gaara," Gaara said, narrowing his eyes. "Don't touch me," he warned in a dangerously low voice.

The girl grinned wickedly, and Gaara recognized the look. It was one that Kankuro often got on his face right before he did something particularly nasty to Temari.

Before she could steal his iPod – for that was what Skye had intended to do, Kankuro had tried it enough times for him to know the signs of iPod theft – he grabbed her wrist and pushed her back.

"Skye!" Ulrich reprimanded sharply.

Skye paid him no heed. She wrenched her wrist from Gaara's grip and grinned. "_You_ just touched _me_."

Gaara frowned. This girl was too much like Naruto, he decided. But more clever. "You tried to steal my iPod."

She shrugged and rubbed her wrist. "I prefer the term, 'forcibly borrow.' And you didn't have to grab so hard. Jeez. I just wanted to check out the music."

Gaara said nothing, and Ulrich took the opportunity to tell Skye, "Don't steal other people's things."

She rolled her eyes and turned to Gaara. "So, what's your favorite color?"

Gaara took a couple seconds to process her sudden question. "Red," he said, slightly surprised that it was true.

She nodded and her expression was one between a fierce smile and a feral grin. "Lovely. Did you dye your hair?"

"Skye…"

"No," Gaara growled defensively. He knew what question was coming next. "And I don't wear eyeliner, either."

But she was already asking another question. "Do you like the stars?"

"_What?_"

Gaara didn't know it then, but that was the spark of a friendship that would last him through eighth grade and into high school. Skye was too blunt, too nonstop for most people; Gaara was too closed off and not a friendly person on the whole. Skye could easily fill the conversation gaps, and Gaara could keep up with her antics.

For the rest of that fateful two weeks, Gaara and Skye were known as a unit. Gaara would follow his routine of waking up, swiping some food, and heading to the bookstore where Skye would turn up sooner or later. From there she'd drag him all over Suna, explaining that some places belonged in the cesspool and others were alright, if you knew where to look.

Gaara had remarked that he'd seen most of the town and that it all looked like it was already in the cesspools of Hell. Skye had laughed and remarked, "Wanna bet?"

"Not really."

Skye didn't deflate in the least. "I'll still prove you wrong. What time is it?"

With a glance at his iPod, Gaara replied, "Three forty-five."

"Hm. Well, stick around till about nine or so and you'll see."

Despite himself, Gaara was intrigued. So he hung around (some onlookers would go so far as to say _hiding behind) _Skye until it was dark. They were currently walking the streets of Suna, it a more vintage district than where Elysium was located. They passed a tattoo parlor, and Skye asked absently, "So where _did _you get the tattoo?"

Gaara's hand subconsciously flew up to his forehead. "It's not a tattoo," he said darkly, voice warning her to drop it, though he doubted she actually would.

She surprised him, however, by doing just that. "Here we are," she said, running forward and giving Gaara no choice but to follow her. People were _staring _at him.

It was growing darker out. Skye had scampered up to an old apartment building and was climbing the fire escape. It didn't look too sturdy to Gaara, but what could he do? He followed her up, tensing every time the metal stairs creaked.

Finally, he reached the top. He blinked as his eyes adjusted to the light, or lack thereof.

Skye was sitting on a raised block of concrete. He sat down next to her but not too close, and said, "What am I looking at?" He could hardly _see_ anything; the sun had just set and it was getting dark.

"Just wait. Give it like ten minutes." And she sat back and, for the first time since Gaara had met her, the girl had gone completely still.

He took the opportunity to ask her a question that had been sitting on the edge of his mind. "How old are you?"

It had been bugging him for some time; Skye _looked _about ten years old, and she acted about five, but she used big words like _obsolete _and _megalomaniac_ and socially handled herself well enough.

"I'll be thirteen in August," she said, swinging her legs against the side of the slab they sat on. "Why? How old are you?" she asked absently.

"Thirteen," Gaara answered. _So she's going into eighth grade._

She nudged him. He tensed, but didn't push her like the first time. From the beginning, it had become apparent that the idea of 'personal space' was foreign to her. "Look up."

Gaara did. "What am I looking at?"

"The _stars, _moron."

Ignoring her 'moron' comment, Gaara rolled his eyes and did what he was told.

_Holy…_

There were _never _this many stars in Konoha. They were never this bright, never this…_wow. _There was a band of stars going across the sky – they looked almost hazy, like a cloud.

He was acutely aware of Skye watching his reaction, but he couldn't turn his gaze away. "You think this is good? You should seem 'em in winter."

Gaara showed no sign that he had heard. He didn't know how long they sat there, or when exactly Skye nudged him and said, "Dude! It's nearly one in the morning!" but he didn't care.

The sky that night was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and ever since then Gaara had been obsessed with the stars. It would be a routine for him and Skye over the years, to stargaze and, if they were lucky, catch a meteor shower.

But _never _was the sky as breathtaking as it had been that night.

**Alright. Focused on Gaara's past now, getting some stuff down. In case you didn't get it, he was thirteen for the duration of this chapter. I may go back and edit later. **

**As always, let me know your thoughts. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Alright. I apologize of any of you were misled. This IS still a Narusaku story; it just involves many, many more characters. It revolves around the relationship of Naruto and Sakura and how it's affected and how it affects others. **_**Don't worry, there will be mostly NaruSaku. It's only three chapters in, starting now. Nevertheless, thank you for your feedback and time.**_

**Disclaimer: I Don't Own Naruto.**

**Thanks to everyone for reviewing! **

_**And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music. -F. N.**_

They were lounging on Sakura's front porch this time, watching the lightening as it streaked across the sky. They were on the porch swing, which was just big enough for the both of them if Naruto sat in the corner and propped his feet on the wicker coffee table and if Sakura sat longways, throwing her legs over Naruto to rest on the opposite arm.

Maybe it was the weather, or maybe it was just her, but Naruto seemed troubled today. Sooner or later, Naruto would usually tell her about it, but on a few rare occasions, he was in the odd pensive, brooding mood.

Only one person could do that to him. "What's wrong?" she asked, deciding to see if he'd actually talk, though she had a feeling he wouldn't. He _did _have an ability to keep things to himself; he just didn't exercise it very often.

Naruto glanced at her. "Nothing's wrong," he said. He didn't grin, didn't assure her in the way a five-year-old assured their parents.

_Let me rephrase that._ "What's wrong with Sasuke?"

"Who said it was Sasuke?" Naruto said, but Sakura could tell from his tone that she was correct. She gave him a look, and he sighed. "He's acting…different."

"And by different you mean happy?"

A corner of Naruto's mouth twitched up at the joke, but he shook his head. "I mean _different._ He's been hanging around Kabuto more and more, and – gr. I dunno. It's like – when was the last time you talked to him?"

"A couple days ago. Why?"

"The last time I talked to him he seemed – I dunno. Different." He gave her a look that was able to tell her what he couldn't put into words.

"You mean he's not acting friendly towards you? Like – like you don't belong in his life or something?" that was how _she _had been feeling, lately, and it seemed that Naruto had too. It might be leftover resentment from a long-time schoolgirl crush (one that had left her dateless from ages twelve to fourteen) but still. Ever since middle school, if a trio was ever mentioned, nine times out of ten it was them – herself, Sasuke, and Naruto.

Naruto gave a jerky nod. "Exactly. Like we're tools or something. I'm worried about him."

"Me too," Sakura agreed quietly. They sat in silence punctuated by a particularly loud clap of thunder. _This is the difference between you and him,_ she thought to herself. _You _care. She knew what was up with Sasuke – at least, she knew part of the picture. There was a reason Sasuke was acting this way, and Naruto wouldn't like it.

Sometimes she really couldn't believe how lucky she was to have a friend like Naruto.

_But how will he react to this whole Sasuke issue? _

She was caught in that terrible place – she had a duty, as Naruto's best friend: to shield him from what would hurt him and to let him know what was going on.

It just so happened that this time, doing one would negate the other.

She bit her lip. Sakura could remember when they were twelve and she was caught in a similar position – Naruto and Sasuke had been worst enemies, rivals, like matter and anti-matter. Naruto had been her best friend.

Sasuke had been her first love.

Or that's what she had thought at the time. Sasuke had been cool, collected, (even if he _was _a bit of an ass) and moreover the most attractive boy in the middle school. She had had English with him; there, they would talk, and the more she talked to him the more she 'fell in love' with him.

She'd always blush when she thought of it – how _bad_ of a friend she had been to Naruto for those couple months. She had treated him, frankly, like crap when they were around other people.

Sakura was ashamed of her thirteen year old self, shallow and caught up.

That, however, had changed _that day._

Hell, that day had shifted the stakes of _everything._

Xxxxxxxxx

_It had been May of eighth grade…_

The roof was surrounded by a chain-link fence. Random slabs of concrete and boxes littered the surface. The floor of the roof was solid concrete, something that would hurt you if you fell. Sakura stood behind a stack of boxes and watched as the scene before her unfolded.

The two boys were on the school roof, facing each other.

"Just admit it already, loser," Sasuke drawled. "No one likes you and the soccer team would be better off without you."

Sakura frowned. This could hardly be true; Naruto was an _amazing _halfback for the school's team – why would Sasuke say something like that? _Just because he's striker doesn't mean he's a one man team…_

"Bastard!" Naruto seethed, eyes narrowing to slits.

Sasuke snorted and clenched his fists. "So fight me, freak! Prove your better!"

With a growl, Naruto ran at Sasuke. The other boy responded in kind.

Neither of them, however, had been aware of the girl standing behind the boxes. She bit her lip, torn between turning a blind eye and yelling something.

They slammed into each other, and for all the world it looked like a fair fight, despite Sasuke's obvious size advantage. Naruto could hold his own – he _was _a star soccer player, after all. No, she wasn't worried about one of them getting hurt.

She was worried about the two of them killing each other.

Neither one would give, it seemed. They broke apart, snarling, and rammed into each other again.

_Is this what happens when an unstoppable force collides with an immovable object? _

They broke apart again, and this time Sasuke's words stuck a chord with Sakura. "Just give up now!" he sneered. "Even your _best friend _likes me better than you!"

_That's not true! _Sakura mentally screamed. She watched as Naruto clenched his fists and looked down; Sasuke gave him a triumphant smirk. "So what are you going to do about it? Fight me. Prove your worth."

She didn't know that Sasuke had an ulterior motive for taunting Naruto, that he had other, more pressing reasons for tormenting his classmate. No, right now her only concern was that he was punching Naruto and Naruto _wasn't fighting back._

But there was nothing she could do – she was rooted to the spot, stuck in silence. She couldn't say anything, felt a lump form in her throat as she watched with tears falling from her eyes.

_Naruto! C'mon, fight! You're better than he is and – _

_And I've been a shit friend lately._

The thought surprised her, but with a pang she realized that it was true. Naruto – she couldn't think of a moment that Naruto _hadn't _been there for her. She had found her new friends, but what were they worth, really, compared to Naruto, the guy who just last week came over at _midnight _in the _pouring rain_ because she had had a really freakin' bad nightmare?

She silently cried as her best friend was beaten. Eventually Sasuke got bored, and left, and sometime after that she had found the strength to put one foot in front of the other and walk to where her friend lay. His eyes were shut and his face was bruised. She bit her lip and knelt next to him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, brushing a stray strand of hair from his face. She was sobbing now, and her chest ached. She swallowed around the lump in her throat. "I don't deserve you and – and he was _lying._"

She hugged her knees to her chest. "I'm sorry," she sobbed, over and over because that's all she could say. Naruto was as necessary to her life as – as an arm or leg or an eye or a heart – and she had been taking him for granted like a selfish bitch.

Unbeknownst to her, Naruto wasn't unconscious. His eyes fluttered open, and (with some difficulty) he sat up.

Sakura heard him shift, and looked up. Naruto gave her a weak smile, and that made her cry all the harder.

"Sakura don't cry –"

"I'm _sorry!_" She flung her arms around Naruto and gave him the kind of hug that she used to give him nearly every day. "I – Don't listen to Sasuke. He's – he's a douche and – you're a better soccer player than he is!" the last sentence was lame at best, but Naruto understood what she was saying.

Naruto blinked. He was a little surprised – five minutes ago he had been laying there feeling like his brain was leaking out of his skull and now _Sakura _of all people was _hugging _him.

"I thought you hated me," he whispered sadly as his arms encircled her. He held her so tight that it hurt.

Sakura shook her head. "I – I've been a shitty friend," she said, sniffing. "And you did nothing to deserve that." She shook her head and broke away from him, hugging her knees to her chest. "Sasuke – I don't know _what _I – what I saw in him." She shook her head and wiped her eyes and called him a name that almost made Naruto blush.

_Almost._ Currently he was too busy doing a mental high-five to himself.

She avoided his eyes and said, "So how badly did I screw up?"

It was a line of theirs, one often used when either of them did something rather stupid, as a way of asking forgiveness of the other. This, however, had been the most serious rift that had ever come between them, and Sakura half-expected him not to respond.

She plowed on, "You would be right not to be my friend anymore." Her words came out in a rush. "And I can totally understand that. I took you for granted and treated you like shit and – God, what's _wrong _with me – and – I'm sorry, Naruto."

Naruto glanced at her. He couldn't _not _forgive her – it was Sakura. She was his best friend and he loved her. It was simple as that – even if her attitude toward him for the past two months had stung mega-hard.

But he was Naruto and his brain, though deep, was rather simple. "Buy me ramen," he stated, leaving his arm around Sakura's shoulders. "And…can we go back to how things used to be? When we got into trouble every other week and gorged on pizza on Fridays?"

"I missed that," Sakura said quietly, staring at her hands.

"Yea. Me too."

They sat there quietly, leaning against the fence, and Sakura spoke. "Don't listen to him. You – you do know that you're my brother, right? And not everyone likes Sasuke all that much. Shikamaru and Kiba, anyway. And you know Gaara hates him –"

"I know," Naruto said with a small smile. "I know. Just – can you promise something?"

Sakura looked up at him and nodded. He pinned her in place with his eyes – it was a strangely adult thing that Naruto could do – and said, "Promise that you'll always be there? If I promise that I will?"

He held out his pinky and Sakura hooked it with her own. Childish as it may be, it was a ritual that both of them had secretly held onto from childhood: the epitome of a promise never to be broken.

From that day on, though they'd only know in retrospect, things had changed. Their friendship had evolved from what is natural as breathing to a vow as sacred as a god.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

Later on that year, _something_ had changed between the boys, because they suddenly had reaced some sort of understand and Sasuke soon because a regular face among their duo. Sakura didn't know what happened – Naruto wouldn't say – but whatever it was, it had happened nearly overnight.

But she wasn't complaining. She had her boys, one who was hyper and loud and another who was distant and cold but nonetheless a great partner in crime.

The three of them, that summer before high school – that had been the height of their friendship, the best summer of Sakura's life. That summer they had sworn to stick together through anything and everything, to drag each other back to their senses by the fingernails if need be, to be _there._

That summer had marked the beginning of a wonderful thing.

Now Sakura was worried that that wonderful thing was going to end.

xxxxxxxxxxx

Sakura shook the memories off and glanced up at Naruto. He caught her looking and grinned. "I'm thinking that we should stay local today," he said. "Wanna hustle some pool later?"

_Only Naruto._ "Sounds like a plan." She smiled, despite her discomfort.

_I'll tell him,_ she promised herself. _Soon. When I can be there so he doesn't break._

_So it doesn't end for good._

_**As always, let me know your thoughts.**_


	4. Chapter 4

**Okay, here's chapter four, take two. Sorry if this causes confusion, but I was unsatisfied with the direction the plot was going with the previous installment. I don't want this to become another **_**When It All Comes Crashing Down,**_** and god knows there's enough similarities as is. **

**I apologize if this causes anyone confusion, hatred, or irritation. **

**Disclaimer: Don't. Own. Naruto.**

***And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music***

Believe it or not, Sasuke actually liked his friends.

Really, he did.

Naruto was the brother he always wanted – well, okay, little brother – and Sakura was the obligatory female company that had given up fawning over him – thank God.

Not to mention that she and Naruto had been joined from the hip since like, birth. You were friends with Naruto, you were friends with Sakura. They were like Siamese twins.

It could make one feel a little alone, sometimes.

Sasuke was broody and pensive by nature – family feuds could do that to a person – and definitely the quiet one of the trio. He was intelligent, yes, but not as bright or inquisitive as Sakura.

And he wasn't Naruto on _any _level. They were foils. Opposites. Rivals.

Best fucking friends.

_Yea. Friends. Whose life mission is to annoy the shit outta the other._

He didn't like feeling like this – moody and resentful and just wanting to _kick_ something – and it was hard to feel this way around Naruto.

He was just so damn _bright._ Loud. Hyper.

_Annoying. _

Seriously, Sasuke sometimes wondered why they were friends.

Like, take now for instance. Naruto was letting some kids from their school's rival soccer team goad him into a fight. Sasuke never really got caught up in things like that – like whose school's team was better.

_His _was, douchebag, as demonstrated on the field nearly every season. That was good enough for Sasuke. He knew that the other guys were deliberately trying to push Naruto's buttons, and dammit, it was working.

Naruto got angry quick. Usually he's just get mad, and it'd blow over once he let off some steam.

The form of steam-letting could be anything from 'walk around the neighborhood' to 'beat the shit outta someone.'

And presently, Sasuke wasn't in the mood for a brawl. He had no doubt in Naruto's ability – he was past that awkward gangly stage that every male went through and had already filled out – and _he_ sure as hell could beat up these shitheads. No, right now he just simply wasn't in the mood.

So before anything could escalate, he clasped Naruto on the shoulder and muttered, just loud enough to be heard, "C'mon. Let's leave these steroid-ridden bitches alone."

Naruto growled something _much_ more offensive over his shoulder as Sasuke practically dragged him away, still muttering threats and insults when they were way out of earshot. Sasuke sighed to himself but said nothing; starting shit with people wasn't on the agenda for today and Sasuke didn't want any surprises. He liked things to remain the same – constants.

He had thought that he'd had constants – with his family, his brother. Then his brother went postal –or, rather, as postal as Itachi _could_ go – and had stormed out of the house after a particularly nasty fight with his father. They didn't catch hide or hair of him until nearly six months later…only to find out that he was living with their uncle.

_Yea, the uncle who's involved with so many illegal deals that it's not even funny. _

The ironic part?

Itachi had previously aspired to be a part of his father's law firm.

That being said, Naruto and Sakura were probably his only constants _ever._

And he wanted to keep it that way – he wanted to protect them.

Sakura had called him out on it, freshman year of high school. Whenever Naruto had won over the friendship of someone, Sasuke made it his personal duty to run a thorough background check on the person. Whenever Sakura dated someone, he was the proverbial dad with the shotgun.

Well, he and Naruto. Her own father had been relatively chill when it came to Sakura and boys, probably having something to do with her two best friends being male and her deadly right hook.

"_You know, we're not stupid. We can tell if someone's iffy. It's called a vibe, and even Naruto gets it." Sakura crossed her arms and cocked her hip, giving him That Look. _

_Sasuke shrugged in a way he knew infuriated her. "So?" _

Sakura didn't get it. There was a _reason_ behind his protective streak, and it was a damned good one. But she wouldn't understand, now would she? Her life had been easy, compared to his or Naruto's.

Well, maybe less so in the recent years. Both her parents were around, and not divorced, and her life before age five had been stable. But now, even though she tried to hide it, things were falling apart.

Sasuke knew it. Naruto knew it.

And Sakura had to know that it was killing them that she wouldn't come out and _say_ it. Naruto especially. He was hurt, taking her silence as some kind of lack of trust. It wasn't though – not telling him was borne of a protective streak akin to the one he bore.

Naruto protected Sakura from the bullies.

Sakura protected Naruto from the world.

On the outside looking in, it was a perfect coexistence. Sakura (more so in the early years) had a bit of a self-esteem issue; Naruto was so naïvely oblivious. It was his best strength and his worse weakness, and Sakura recognized this.

Sasuke didn't get her sometimes. She'd tell _him_ things, things that she probably should tell Naruto or even Ino first. But for reasons completely alien to him, she would come to _him_ for advice or tell _him_ things or ask _him_ to tell Naruto of X, Y, and/or Z.

He didn't get it.

He had asked her once, why she did; she had responded with a shrug and a, "I ask myself that sometimes."

Damn infuriating girl.

But Naruto was really torn up about this, now. He wanted to help Sakura, but was uneasy about confronting her about it, and confused and hurt as to why she wasn't telling him that her father was acting this way, but he didn't know how to go about it.

And that was where Sasuke came in. _He _had no qualms about calling people out on their crap (and normally Naruto didn't, but this was _Sakura)_ so in a rare moment of cunning, Naruto had put Sasuke up to finding out _just_ what the issues were.

And he had been just about to tell Naruto, but the confrontation with the jocks had given him the chance he needed to rethink his actions.

_Coward._

Was he? Try as he did to ignore it, Sasuke _did_ feel a stab of guilt when he thought of another one of Sakura's problems, one that _he_ was causing.

He shoved the thought from his mind. As long as _Naruto_ didn't know, everything would be _fine._ He had stressed that point to Sakura, and she had stressed that same point to him.

_Keep Naruto in the dark, keep the glue safe, keep the friendship whole. _

A mutual agreement to protect the best thing to happen to either of them.

_And now you go back on your end of the agreement,_ that irritating little voice known as his conscious reminded him. He banished it. _Sometimes you need to break promises to keep promises._

Right now Sasuke was banking on Naruto forgetting that he was supposed to tell him; it wasn't like he had the highest attention span to begin with.

But after two minutes of walking in silence, Naruto turned to him. "So. What's with Sakura? You said you found out."

_Right. The idiot can't remember basic academics, but God forbid he forget anything about Sakura._

"Right," Sasuke said. He sat on a curb, and Naruto sat next to him, blue eyes searching his face nervously. Sasuke could feel the tension and questions rolling off Naruto in waves – not that Naruto was doing much to hide them.

_Idiot._Sasuke stared directly ahead of him, at the heat haze across the street. They were in the shade of one of the trees that grew along the sidewalk, but it was so goddamn _humid_ out that it wasn't doing much.

_It had better rain soon…_Sasuke thought absently as he pondered exactly how to word what he had found out. It wasn't like Naruto didn't know that Sakura's dad was an alcoholic, but there were some fuzzy, grisly details that even Sasuke hadn't guessed.

"You know the gist of it," he settled on. "Her dad's…drinking habits have gotten out of hand."

Naruto snorted. "Okay, and?" Even _he_ knew that there was more to it than that, Sasuke realized. Naruto had been able to pick that up on instinct alone whereas he had had to pry it out of the girl. _Was I missing something? _"Well, he hit her mom. More than once. And…she left. Sort of. She stays out longer and doesn't' come home for days. And sometimes he and Sakura get into fights and he throws things at her."

Naruto was glaring at his sneakers, his jaw tight and his hands clenched into fists. "I see._ Bastard."_

Sasuke _hned._ What could he say? He wasn't pleased with the situation, but if Sakura was refusing an intervention or help, he'd respect that. But Naruto of all people had a right to know.

As it was, Naruto was mad as hell, and the only thing that was stopping him from sprinting to Sakura's house and going absolutely fucking batshit insane on her father was the tiny stab of hurt, reminding him that Sakura didn't want anyone, didn't want _him,_ to know.

It was like a punch to the gut.

He had known Sakura since they were _five –_ now that added up to over a decade. He knew that she wasn't not-telling him out of spite, or distrust, or anything like that, but _still._

He loved her – regardless of platonic (which, he had found out, meant 'friendly, non-romantic love) or not, she knew that he wouldn't…think less of her or anything because of something her father did. He might not be able to relate, but…

Sometimes Naruto wished that his brain could be as simplistic as people thought it was. Because now his thoughts were getting too complex and meeting dead ends and tying themselves into knots.

_Ugh..._

Sasuke clasped a hand on his shoulder and stood, pulling Naruto up. "Let's get inside, before one of us gets heat stroke."

A slightly strained grin flashed on Naruto's face for an instant, and although no more words were spoken as they walked, he knew what Sasuke wasn't-saying.

_At least Sasuke's with me on this. _

Because that's how it'd always be.

**x.x.x**

**So, what do you think of the new!chapter four? **

**As always, let me know your thoughts.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto. **

**Dunno if the alert went out or not, but the previous chapter four was mega-super changed. I would suggest re-reading it if you wish to understand the plot. **

**Thanks to Suna no Ken for betaing. **

**x.x.x**

Something inside Naruto was slowly dying as he walked home in the summer heat. Sasuke had gone home – he could see that Naruto needed some time alone with his thoughts.

Naruto thought a lot - people thought he was an idiot but really he had a deep mind. It was just that his thoughts sounded good in his head, really good in fact; and then he'd say them and they'd get all screwed up and they'd sound stupid, or he'd write them down and not know where to begin. So he figured that keeping his thoughts inside his head was easier than explaining to people what he thought.

But this was a different matter entirely.

_Sakura…_he didn't think. He _couldn't_ think, because then his thoughts would get screwed up. He didn't sit and worry. He just _did._

He and Sakura were long past the 'knock before entering your home' stage, and _way_ past the, 'I'm just going to walk in' stage. He actually had a key to her house.

However, his more preferred method of entering was Sakura's window.

There was an oak tree just outside; actually, it and the linden tree next to it made a sort of bridge between the window to Naruto's bathroom and Sakura's bedroom.

Naturally it was exploited by the two.

Naruto took the usual way, swinging himself up and onto the braches before her window. Though the window was closed because the air was on, he knew that it'd be unlocked. He opened it easily enough – years of doing this made him practiced at opening windows from the outside.

Sakura was in the middle of getting ready for her 'girl's night' (who the hell came up with titles like that, anyway?) with Ino and Tenten. Her hair was half-dry, music was playing, and one eye was rimmed with eyeliner, the other halfway there. "Naruto?" she turned and grinned. "What's up?"

Naruto said nothing – he didn't know what to say. So he did what he always did, and acted on impulse. He took two steps forward and pulled Sakura into a tight, rib-cracking hug.

Sakura hugged him back (because why wouldn't she? The hug might be random, but Naruto was so damn touchy-feely) then pulled away. "Something wrong?"

"I heard," he said, clenching his fists, voice grave. _No backing out now._"About your dad." There. He bit the bullet.

All at once, the color drained from Sakura's face. "Wh – what did you hear?"

A line formed between Naruto's eyebrows. "I know enough, Sakura. I know what's going on."

"It – it's not as bad as –" Sakura tried to explain, but Naruto cut her off.

"I'm not _stupid._ I've _known_ that something was up, and then I hear from _Sasuke_ of all people and you're trying to act like everything's okay!"

"Because everything _is_ okay," she insisted, eyeliner still in hand. "I – there's nothing here to worry you about, so –" Naruto wasn't hearing her excuses. (And why should he?) Words weren't working, so him impulses he'd follow. He grabbed her arm, pushed up the sleeve of her t-shirt. There, right around her bicep, was a bruise that would match a hand perfectly if he grabbed her just so. "Nothing to worry about? Christ, Sakura! This – _this –" _he dropped his hands, and his voice was thick when he spoke.

"This _isn't_ nothing."

She shied away from him, glaring. "It's not your business," she said, voice wavering. "I'm handling everything fine. _That's_ why I didn't tell you, idiot! Because I knew you'd react like _this._"

There is a thing about Naruto; he harbors an absolute hatred of liars.

Especially people who lied to themselves.

Even if it was Sakura.

"Dammit, Sakura!" he yelled, gesturing wildly. "How stupid do you think I am? Or maybe _you're_ the stupid one here. Letting this happen! _Living_ with it! There's something – there's something _wrong_ with you!"

It was one of those times that you just _know_ you said the wrong thing but you can't take back the words because you've already opened your mouth. He wished he could backtrack, but Sakura had a retort at the ready. A biting, scathing, way-too-far retort. "It's not like _you'd_ get it!"

_That_ was like a hit to the gut. Something must've shown on his face, because she looked mortified at her own words.

Any other time, any other argument, she would have apologized. But…

"Just go," she said, taking a step back, voice shaky. "I – I can't deal with this – you- right now. I'll call you later."

_Shit._

He stood there for a minute, wondering if he could salvage any words, repair the moment, but he couldn't. What she had said…the obvious dismissal…

It _hurt. _

So he sighed, turned on his heel, and left.

But he couldn't resist adding, over his shoulder as he perched on the windowsill, "Call me when you're ready to talk. The window's unlocked."

And he jumped down and _ran._

x.x.x

Skye was odd. Temari said it was quirky and endearing, Kankuro said it was weird and freaky.

Gaara didn't know _what_ it was, but for Skye it was normal.

So there was no way in Hell that _this _girl could be his Skye.

Skye's wardrobe was limited to wife beaters and t-shirts (ranging from band logos to cartoon dinosaurs), cargo-like shorts (that hung low on her hips with numerous pockets and he _swore_ that they were boys'), jeans (only in the winter, in various stages of ruin) and either Kelly green converse or clunky black boots.

_This _girl who was running the checkout, who had Skye's gray eyes and choppy black hair, was wearing shorts that were actually short length, a tank top that Temari would call a _camisole,_ and flip-flops.

Immediately, Gaara sought out Ulrich. The man was at the back of the store, stocking books on the shelves. "Where's Skye?" Gaara asked in way of greeting.

Ulrich looked down and offered a smile in Gaaara's direction, just as he always did. "At the checkout."

Gaara blinked. "No she's not," he stated almost defiantly.

Ulrich shook his head – was that sadness Gaara detected? – he couldn't tell. "Yea, she is. Go on, git. But wait till one to steal her away, understand, boy?"

Gaara _hned_ and stalked towards the checkout counter. He gave himself props for waiting until the customer was done before taking two giant steps forward and demanding, "What are you _wearing?" _

Skye's mouth twitched. "Hello to you too," she said. "And I'm wearing _clothes,_ Gaara. Shocker, I know."

This was _weird._ _Wrong._ By now, Skye should've tackled him into a vicious hug (despite his protests) and yelled at him for being away for so long, and then she'd tell Ulrich that she was taking off early and then drag him off somewhere to be the unwilling participant in one of her endeavors.

"What's going on?" he asked slowly, glancing around. He wouldn't put it past Skye to pull a sick, elaborate prank like this. But there was nothing. He frowned and directed a glower Skye's way. When he got that look, she's make some kind of comment about how every time he got that look, a baby died or something.

Now she averted her eyes and shrugged, "Nothing. Hey, when I'm off my shift, wanna grab food? I'm _starving._"

_What?_ _Off? _"Okay," he said in his usual monotone. Skye never asked, and Skye never waited to get off her shift.

Just what the hell was going on?

x.x.x.x

It was _pouring._

Naruto was presently laying on his bed, music blasting and hands laced behind his head. His eyes were shut, but he was only pretending to rest for his own benefit. No matter how hard he ran, he wouldn't tire; it was an odd endurance thing he possessed.

Something that at times like these, he damned. Would it be so hard to let him _sleep?_

He glanced at the clock. Eleven thirty-two PM. Sakura had pulled up forty-five minutes ago, (not that he was counting) and he still hadn't heard from her.

_She probably just fell asleep. She's not an insane night owl, and she gets up early to hit the pool sometimes…_

It was bullshit, and he knew it.

They rarely, if _ever,_ fought like that. Sure, they were both hotheaded, but things never escalated. Not over anything serious; usually he put his foot in his mouth or she began going off in girl talk around his friends – never anything major.

_Never anything like this._ They had both overstepped, especially her last comment…

She hadn't mentioned the word _parents,_ but she hadn't needed to. Naruto knew what she meant. _"You'd never understand because you never _had_ parents._"

It _hurt._

But by the time eleven forty rolled around, Sakura had climbed onto his windowsill (because who else would it be?). He sat up, half-contemplating saying something spiteful just because he was in a rotten mood, but the words died on his tongue.

She was crying. Sakura had always been moved easily, (it was one of the things he loved about her) but he couldn't tell if it was from pain or not. She held her left wrist at an odd angle, nursing it, and she wouldn't look him in the eye.

"I'm sorry," she was saying, over and over, but he wasn't listening. He pulled her down next to him and he sat there, holding her; he didn't let go.

"What's wrong?" he asked, lowly, even though he had a feeling. He just needed Sakura to say it, to _tell him._ He leaned back against the headboard, Sakura held against his chest.

"They're – they're…_he's…_" she choked out, but Naruto knew. He tightened his arms around her, murmured, _"Shh, it'll be alright. I'm here. I'm here."_

"I _hate_ him," she said in a small voice when her sobs began to ebb away. "I hate him_ so much. And I'm sorry._"

"I know," Naruto murmured. "I know."

And that was how they stayed, apologizing and comforting, holding and whispering, eventually simply holding each other.

"Naruto?" she asked, breaking the silence.

"Hmm?"

"Thank you."

A twisted smile tugged at his mouth. He said nothing in response, partly because he could already feel Sakura falling asleep in his arms and partly because he was lost in his memories. It was at times like these where he really stopped and thought – how the kid with nothing…

_How the sob story of my childhood got turned around._

x.x.x

The first time Naruto met Sakura, he was six years old.

(Well, technically he was _almost _six. _Details.)_

He had just moved in with his godfather. His parents had died when he was three – he had hardly remembered them, anyway – and shit had hit the fan over the custody arrangements. (Though he hadn't found out about that later.)

Jiraiya was a nice man, he had already decided, much nicer than his uncle. He lived in a better neighborhood, by kid standards – there was a swing set in the back yard and a small creek _just_ off his property. (But of course, since no one else had claimed it, it was Naruto's territory.)

And, according to Jiraiya, there was, 'a little kid his age who lived next door.'

Which of course, Naruto had hounded the man _constantly_ to meet.

When the day finally arrived, the Big Day of Meeting a Friend, Naruto was a little disappointed. Firstly, she was a _girl, _and from his (limited) experience, girls didn't like creeks or swings or races. They liked dolls (boring!) and chalks (which weren't too bad, he guessed) and jump rope (which he didn't get the point of.)

The second issue was that she was shy. She was hiding behind her mother, sneaking peeks at him. And she wasn't even being _sneaky_ about it! She'd be terrible at playing Ninja Spies. And whenever he looked back at her, she'd go all red and look down. It was _annoying._

But he was Naruto Uzumaki, and he was _not_ about to turn up his nose at a new friend (even if she was a girl.) He'd give her a chance to prove herself worthy of his being his playmate.

Her mother (_Finally!)___nudged her forward. "Say hello to Naruto."

"H –hi," Sakura said shyly, hands clasped behind her back. She had a red bow in her pink hair; he remembered thinking that pink hair was strange, but now it was right as rain to him.

"I'm Naruto!" he said by way of introduction. "Do you know there's a creek in my yard?"

He vaguely remembered Jiraiya chiding him because 'girls don't like playing in mud,' and Sakura's mother saying something like, 'does she _ever,_' but that wasn't important. What was important was the way that her eyes lit up and that she nodded; it was incentive enough for him to bound forward, almost too-too close to her personal space. "Wanna check it out? I heard there's _snakes_ in there!"

This was her test; her answer would deem her worthy of his friendship or not…

…well, Naruto would probably hang out with her anyways and teach her how to play properly, but…

She actually smiled. "We found one that was _this big!"_ she held out her arms to the appropriate (no doubt exaggerated) length, and Naruto knew that he had found a friend, if not a kindred spirit.

But he was five (almost six!) and he knew nothing of long-term friendships or love, so he grabbed her wrist and dragged her into his backyard. "Let's go snake-hunting!" he said.

They didn't find any snakes, but that hardly disheartened the pair –they had fun all the same. By the end of the day Sakura was sporting an impressive gash on her knee ("it's a battle scar!" he'd said, but he was actually impressed that she didn't cry _much)_ and he had a new case of poison ivy, but it didn't matter; school had yet to start and they were next-door neighbors, so the first thing the next morning after breakfast, his right leg sporting hastily applied ointment and an interesting rash, Naruto was at Sakura's door demanding that she come back with him_ right now_ because he was bored and the day was practically_ over._

Sakura agreed. As they left, Naruto gave her a blow-by-blow description of how his leg was itchy but he couldn't scratch it and she probably shouldn't touch it but _look see how it's all red!_ And Sakura (still a little shyly) showed off the three Hello-Kitty Band-Aids that covered her cut.

Sakura still had a scar on her right knee.

Mosquito bites always seemed to itch the worst when they were on his left calf (coincidence that the poison ivy had been in the same spot? He thought not!)

It was their first summer together.

It was the start of a beautiful relationship.

x.x.x

**As always, let me know your thoughts. **


	6. Chapter 6

**Oh dear gravity, it is about time that this thing was updated. .**

**.**

When Sakura awoke the next morning, she was half off of Naruto's bed. He still had an arm thrown across her stomach, and she was in her clothes from last night. She could feel the makeup around her eyes and her left arm was cramped.

She sat up and glanced at her clock. _Eleven twenty-one. _Damn, she slept late (well, for _her._) Naruto, however, was still out cold.

She sat up (no fear of waking him up, he slept like the dead) and sighed. Last night's events came rushing back to her, and she wished that they'd never happened.

It had been _way_ too dramatic. Naruto had freaked, she had panicked and freaked, and had probably made things out to be worse than they actually were.

_I have a lot of explaining to do._

She wasn't looking forward to it. She glanced at Naruto – it didn't look like he was going to move anytime soon. She exhaled and sat on the floor of his room, leaning her head back against the bed.

Naruto's room was about as familiar to her as her own; god knows she spent enough time there. She had watched as it transformed from power-ranger décor to batman to the clashing orange/black/blue color scheme he had going on now. It was messy – clothes were strewn all over the floor, and there was definitely ages-old ramen cups and soda cans. _Typical Naruto._

"You okay?"

Sakura turned around. Naruto was sitting cross-legged on his bed, peering down at her sleepily.

"Fine," Sakura answered, because she was _(fine-just-fine.)_

Naruto yawned, and slid down from the bed next to her, pillow in hand. "Sakura…"

"Really. I – overreacted. Seriously. Granted, things aren't good – but I was stressed."

Naruto sighed. "Right. And this?" he motioned to her arm.

_Oh. That can't look good._ "Screwed it up trying to climb a tree in the rain. 'Cause you know, I'm so ninja like that."

A corner of his mouth twitched up. They were quiet for a while, then Sakura said, in an uncharacteristically small voice, "My mom left."

"Oh," Naruto said, because what do you say when someone says something like that? He put his hand on top of hers and squeezed. "I see."

"Yeah," she said, in a way that more or less ended the conversation – but she knew it wasn't over with, not quite yet. "Sorry." But her hand squeezed his back.

"No problem." He stood. "You want breakfast?"

Sakura smiled; it was like a huge weight had been taken off her chest. And Naruto was taking it in stride – well, mostly.

_Why do I always wait till the breaking point to tell him these things?_

"That sounds wonderful," she told him, standing. "Though at this point, it's more like lunch."

"Then we shall get pancakes," he declared, grabbing his car keys off the table. "Let's go!"

"Uh, Naruto? I'd like to get changed first...you might want to do the same." She gestured to herself – donned in the clothes she wore yesterday (and subsequently slept in) and he in a (for lack of nicer word) ratty t shirt and basketball shorts from years ago.

"Hehe…right," Naruto grinned and rubbed the back of his head. "In that case, meet me at the car in ten minutes."

Sakura gave him a Look. "Ten?"

"Okay, okay, fifteen."

"…"

"Twenty! But any longer than that and _someone_ will be walking."

"Much better." Sakura grinned, walking towards the window (because she was _way_ too badass to use the door). "I'll see you. Oh – and Naruto?"

"Hm?"

"Thanks."

x.x.x

What better way to spend the morning that om-nom-nomming on pancakes with your best friend? Sakura would like to know the answer to that. Cause there wasn't one.

She could tell that it was going to be a good day already (despite what had happened last night.) The sun was out, there was a breeze, the rain had managed to drive away the humidity, thank the powers that be – and _nothing _was going to spoil her good mood.

They were presently eating in the outdoors part of the café; Sakura was mostly done, but Naruto…

_Where does he put it all? _She had an athlete's metabolism as well, granted; but Naruto ate enough for three people, it seemed – and he was practically a twig.

She would never get how boys did it.

"Forehead!"

Sakura could kick herself for actually _responding _to that – but, as it was, she turned her head in the direction of Ino. The girl was looking for all the world like the cat that ate the canary - which couldn't mean anything good for Sakura.

"Yes, Pig?" she retaliated, not sure if she should smile or cower under the table.

Ino sauntered up to the table. "I found him."

Naruto snorted. Sakura seconded that sentiment. "Care to be a little more specific?" Much as she loved Ino, that girl had a new guy – whether it was interested or boyfriend or fling or that awkward attractive person you stalk from a distance – almost every week.

Ino huffed. "You know. The artsy guy from last night? _I found him. _So, best friend, buddy, if you could –"

Sakura groaned before Ino could even finish. _"Him?_ Really, Ino? Out of all the cute artsy guys out there, you have to pick _him._"

Ino grinned wickedly. "Yes. Just to be difficult."

x.x.x

After they had eaten, Sakura was kidnapped by Ino (a regular happening) and Naruto headed to Kiba's. Sakura almost envied him – but, after spying an amazing sale at the bookstore, she was content.

"Oh, no you don't," Ino warned, grabbing Sakura's wrist. "Later, I promise. But he's here and I want to catch him before he leaves." And with that, Sakura was dragged into the mall.

"You could stalk someone for a living. Seriously. Just drop out of school now."

"If I drop out of school, I am pursuing on career and one career only: prostitution," Ino deadpanned.

"Okay, I'll be your pimp."

Ino grinned. "Naturally. Now – ah! He's over there!"

Sakura looked in the direction Ino mentioned, and sure enough, there he was. Sai was a 'tallish, pale guy', with 'silky black hair' and 'amazing, dark eyes.' Sakura wasn't sure where Ino got her adjectives from, because from here he looked like he was malnourished, sickly, and afraid of color.

_Love is blind. And so is Ino._

x.x.x

"He's rude, cocky, and completely socially inept!"

Naruto glanced at the raging girl. They were – or, he was – sitting peacefully on the porch swing, eating ice cream, and enjoying the breeze.

Sakura was ranting about Ino artsy-guy.

"So's Sasuke, but you get along with _him_ fine," Naruto felt compelled to point out.

Sakura shook her head. "This kid _tries_ to be an asshole. Ino calls it 'honesty.'" With a final huff, Sakura sat. She wasn't going to fault her friend for being done with the bullshittery that came along with relationships, but Ino could do better.

_So _much better.

Naruto shrugged. They were silent for a while. Then: "We should go for a road trip."

"Like to the beach?"

"Nah. Like a for real road trip. Past Suna – to Iwa, or something. Somewhere that takes more than a day to get to."

"I'd be game," Sakura said. The more she thought about it, the more appealing it sounded.

Naruto grinned. "Awesome."

It was one of those moments – ice cream, decent weather, your best friend at your side, plans for the foreseeable future - where everything was perfect.

_But when is it going to end?_

x.x.x

**Seriously overdue, kinda short, a little filler. Rather character-driven. **

**Next chapters will pick up, I pinky promise. **

**I feel like I'm forgetting something. Ohwell. If it crosses my mind, I'll letchya know. **

**As always, let me know your thoughts. **


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